A Deal With The Devil
by laughinginthebreeze
Summary: Arcadius takes pity on another one of his broken children. An alternate take on season 8.


_**Arcadius takes pity on another of his broken children.**_

 **I'm so sorry, I meant to update** _ **World On Fire**_ **, but this idea screamed at me, and since I'm kind of liking season 8 I thought why not.**

A hand pushed blindly through the darkness.

It scrambled desperately for purchase against the rough, scratchy walls entombing him. The symbol blazed in front of his eyes, blotting out the memory of life itself.

 _I don't know where I am._

Fear, and self-hatred were his constant companions; they overwhelmed him, consumed his soul.

Silas didn't know how long he'd been trapped here, how he had come to be here. He had barely any sense of time.

 _I'm so alone, soalonesoalonesoalone…_

 _HELP HELP HELP HELP!_ He screamed silently in his head. The thoughts screeched into oblivion for him, as the torment he couldn't voice. The pain was unrelenting, recurring so constantly that if he wasn't in so much pain, and loneliness, and fear, he would find it tiresome.

Instead his emotions kept him wired, and weary. Always.

And these moments were no different than the ones he'd experienced before, what he had felt for what seemed like another two thousand years of his existence.

Except this moment was different. Something heard him screaming. Something pitied him.

He could see it, in a world that was black and blinding. He could see past the symbol, the sign he believed to be of hell itself. He saw it in the light, that had been there just a few moments, yet had been there for years.

It had begun as a dim light, one that had given him hope, that had allowed him to think of someone other than the burning crash, and endless suffering that had been part of his life.

Then the light got brighter, erupting suddenly from the blackness, violently invading his vision, and blotting out the symbol.

He clamped his eyes shut, scrambling away from it as it seared his eyes and huddling instinctively into a protective ball. A familiar prickling sensation in the back of his head told him that he was being watched, and he hesitantly turned his head to the side, still curled up.

A man stood tall, towering over Silas's shaking form.

"Oh, my poor child of the damned," The man whispered sadly. "How did I not see you sooner?"

Silas wiped the tears from his face, hands shaking. "Who are you?"

The man smiled, humourless and bitter. "Cade."

Silas's eyes widened in shock and realisation, and he shuffled further back against the rock. "Arcadius." He breathed out, staring at him, fascinated and fearful.

"You have heard of me." Cade took another step towards him. A genuine smile was touching his lips now. "Wonderful."

Silas smiled back weakly, still trembling. "The world's first psychic, lord of Oblivion. Of course I have."

"And I see you have shared the same ability." Cade mused, looking at him thoughtfully. "But you have endured much pain in your life. Two thousand years trapped in stone, unable to die, after sealing your fate as the world's first true immortal being."

Silas shifted uncomfortably under the other man's gaze. "Yes, I suppose." He looked up at him, frowning. "Um… no offence, uh, Cade, but I'm a bit confused as to why you're all of a sudden dropping by for a visit now, when I know I've been here for -" He frowned, thinking hard. "Well, it feels like years."

Cade chuckled. "I have many…" He gestured gracefully with his hands. "souls here on this plane. I have to make my way through all of them, and new ones are coming in every day, not to mention," He gave him a long look. "The collapse of the Other Side, which trapped supernatural beings and prevented them from entering my realm. I had an oncoming storm of souls that particular year." He smiled again, almost as if he was trying to be reassuring, but Silas was still unnerved. "Ironically, you were the reason it was created in the first place, and also part of the reason it was destroyed." Cade spread his hands and shrugged. "So as you can see, once I learned of your existence here, I took an interest."

"Well, unfortunately, I'm obviously no longer immortal, and I lost a lot of my power when I became a witch again, so I don't think I'm going to be of much _interest_ to you anymore." Silas snapped dryly, turning away from the man.

"That is where you are wrong, Silas." He shivered as Cade said his name, still stoically facing the wall. "You could be, and could have been, so much more if your life choices had been different. You were robbed of two thousand years for a foolish mistake, for loving the wrong woman, and wronging the right one." He knelt down next to him, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I could give that back to you. Your immortality, your psychic abilities, those lost millennia."

He leaned in, his mouth a few inches away from his ear. His cold breath on his neck raised goose bumps along Silas's skin, and ran a fingertip across his mind. "You just have to make a deal with the devil."

Silas slowly turned back around to face him, staring at him in shock. "A deal?"

"Yes."

He swallowed anxiously. "What's the price?"

Cade gazed back at him, eyes hard and unreadable. "You will be bound to me, to serve me for as long as you uphold the bargain. You will have to hunt the evil of the world, and send them to me to feed on every day." He rocked back slightly on his heels. "Of course, if your original immortality is restored, then you will have to sustain yourself on human blood to keep on functioning."

He paused, considering something for a moment. "However, you will have to only feed on the blood of the damned that you give to me; if you take an innocent life, or feed from one unwillingly, you will be condemned once more."

He stood back up, and held out his hand. Silas stared at him, unmoving. He was fearful, terrified that this demon would want more from him than he could give, that this was another part of the never ending nightmare.

Cade gazed down at him, eyes fixed on him formidably. "This is a onetime offer, Silas. It is not a trick; think of it as a chance of redemption, a chance to live a life I believe you could have lead." He explained patiently. His eyes darkened. "Know that I won't be so kind as to offer it again anytime soon."

"Why now?" Silas demanded. "Why do you need someone to hunt the darkest souls of the world when they kill each other anyway?"

Cade looked almost aggravated as he answered. "My sirens have served me for three millennia, but for the last few centuries they have been providing lax service. Especially Selene, whose loyalty has been dubious enough recently as it is. I need someone useful, a servant to rely on, who won't sympathise with mankind, or back out of my deal easily. And you are the _perfect_ person for that role."

He again extended his hand to him. "So, do we have a deal?"

Silas swallowed anxiously, and hesitated for a moment, before placing his hand into Cade's still outstretched hand. Cade pulled him up to his feet and smiled again. Silas gave a small smile back.

"Deal."

 **-X-**

At first he was aware of nothing.

He floated in blackness, a numbing calmness flowing through him. It was his existence; it was all that mattered; a pain-free existence. He wanted to bathe in it forever. But gradually, an unbearable coldness interrupted his calm.

It started in his fingertips and the tip of nose. Then it slowly spread all over him, seeping through the cracks in his skin, through his nostrils, his ears and mouth, until its grip reached his mind, searing him into consciousness.

His eyes snapped open and blackness once again greeted him. The next thing he registered was that he was cold, freezing. His back was pressed into a cool, cushiony surface, and pressed his hands down on it to sit up, but they started sinking into the soft, crumply material. Frowning, he grabbed a handful of it, and it sifted slowly through his fingers. Soil. He was surrounded by soil. He breathed in deeply, but quickly realised he couldn't, as the soil clogged his nostrils. He clawed frantically through the dirt, shoving it away as he desperately sought air and freedom. One hand burst through the ground, and he palmed around his grave, searching for more solid ground to hold onto. He dug his nails in, using that leverage to pull his upper body up. He pushed another hand through, and used both of them to drag himself upwards. His head emerged, then his shoulders, as he shook off dirt clinging to his mouth and nose. He kicked the rest of his body free, and still gasping, he rolled to his feet and cast a curious look around.

The sky was a dark blue, with hues of orange and yellow, which suggested to him it was either late evening or perhaps early dawn. The lack of light meant he couldn't really see much other than trees, plants, and more trees, however, the scenery was familiar to him. He looked down at the grave he had dug himself out of, and took a few steps away. Lights flickered in the distance, and he smirked in realisation. The Salvatore Boarding House. Of course. He had been killed almost on this exact spot, and Stefan had spent the night digging him the grave he had just crawled back out of.

He smirked at the thought of Stefan and Damon's face if he walked in there right now, but it was quickly suppressed by another consuming thought; hunger.

As though it had a rein on his soul, it dragged him forward, leaving his grave behind and marching in determination through the trees until he came to the edge of the Salvatore Boarding House grounds. A road stretched out in front of him, quiet save for a car or two roaring past. He wandered further down it for a few more minutes to avoid being recognised as Stefan; if somehow the brothers found out Stefan's look-a-like had been found wandering around the Boarding House grounds, revenge would slip through his fingers. He would meet his doppelgänger, all of them, when the time came.

He saw a green Volvo approaching in the distance at leisurely pace. He stuck his thumb out, like he had observed from previous travellers on the road, and focusing his mind on the driver, he compelled her to stop when she saw him. She suddenly swerved to the side of the road, and braked to a stop in front of him.

She climbed out of the car and took a step towards him wearily. "Are you alright?"

He smiled and studied at her face. Oval face, strawberry blonde hair, cheeks and curved nose dusted with freckles. Pretty, but not overly so. Simple and innocent, though he had learnt long ago to never judge a book by its cover, and he was sure that this one would prove no different.

"What's your name?"

"Uh, Catherine." She replied, looking confused. "With a C."

"Catherine?" He asked, bemused. That name invoked a wave of…something like nostalgia and bitter memories, and of course, the memory of Amara. His hunger grew, and his soul darkened at the thought of them. This one couldn't live up to the name sake.

"Yeah, but I prefer Cate." She smiled. He smiled back again at her response. He preferred it too. "Why are you covered in dirt?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Killed, resurrected, then discovered I was buried alive. It happens."

Her eyes widened, and she paled. "I really should get going-" she stumbled backwards towards her car, and he advanced towards her.

"Oh no you don't." Silas grabbed her shoulders. He pushed deeper into her mind, and cut into her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. "You don't see the dirt, forget about the dirt, and let me ride down to town with you."

The woman relaxed, and took a step back. "Come on, I'll give you a ride down to town."

"Thank you." He smiled, getting in the front passenger street. She got in next to him and put the keys back into ignition and started driving. "Where are you headed?" He asked, to divert her focus. This one would be fun.

"To a party."

"Ooh. Where?"

"Just outside of Mystic Falls." She replied vaguely. He smirked, and began pulling at the thread of her thoughts.

"What's the occasion?"

She glanced over at him. "A friend's birthday." She said finitely. He saw gleeful flashes of naked skin and secret meetings, bright lights, shattered glass and drying blood, but no regrets. Her lack of regret made his decision easy.

"Hmm." He laughed. "And, I'm guessing you're just going for the party?" He twisted his words carefully into a question.

"Something like that." They passed a sign post indicating that they were approaching the town, and he huffed, annoyed. He'd had less time than he had anticipated, and she was too good to pass up.

He compelled her once again. "Pull over." She complied immediately, then looked over at him.

"What-"

"Shh now," He held a finger to her lips. Dirt smudged on her mouth. "I'm really sorry for rushing this, but I don't have much of a choice, you see." He lowered his voice to a whisper. " _I made a deal with the devil_. So, _Cate_ ," She shifted uneasily at his closeness. He let go of her face and grinned. "I have just one last question for you."

Of course, he'd already read her mind, and plucked the answer from her thoughts, but it was much more fun to watch the fear in humans, shining bright in their eyes, when the truth was yanked uncontrollably from their lips, and the satisfaction that this one would be his for the taking, was the best feeling he had felt since his escape from the caves.

"Which is?"

He leaned, inches away from touching her skin, eyes locked onto hers.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done in your life?"

 **-X-**

For the first year, nothing much happened. For Silas, his life of servitude carried on relentlessly, and the hunt never once ceased. Though exhilarating, and always rewarding, the repetitiveness and the underlying fear of being dragged back into hell at any moment made him feel like he was lacking a true purpose, something to fulfil him and allow him to live.

Until the day the two girls went missing.

He'd been cooking bacon and pancakes for his late breakfast after a disappointing night out and scrolling through his news feed absentmindedly, when an article written an hour ago with a photo of two girls with a woman popped up, announcing the woman, Selene, had taken the two from their home the night before, after three months of being their nanny. However, the most interesting thing he found were the girls' names; Elizabeth and Josette Saltzman. The same surname as the man he briefly recalled impersonating to Damon Salvatore; Alric? Alec? He scrolled further down and continued reading;

… _parents Alaric Saltzman and Caroline Forbes are asking for anyone who may have a lead on their whereabouts to contact them…_

Interesting. A vampire mother, and a vampire hunting father? He wondered how nature had allowed that to occur. He zoomed in on the photograph, looking at the young woman intently. She was familiar to him, her name sparked a memory, and he found himself recalling his meeting with Cade.

"… _My sirens have served me for three millennia, but for the last few centuries they have been providing lax service. Especially Selene, whose loyalty has been dubious enough recently as it is."_

A millennium-old siren working for the devil, who just so happened to kidnap a vampire's children from Mystic Falls. Nothing like that would ever end well. He smirked.

Maybe this would be the perfect opportunity to reinsert himself into Stefan Salvatore's life.

 **-X-**

After a disastrously long morning with fruitless results, Silas found himself hovering outside a café in Oakland. This was the strongest lead he had had so far, after a run in with a police officer had informed him that they had a partial location on Selene's phone in Oakland.

He stepped inside, eyes wandering around the room, when he spotted a familiar head of black hair sitting at a table with two women.

"Well, I have to say, this is a lovely surprise." He smiled at them all innocently. Damon and the other woman sitting next to him looked up and stared at him silently for a moment in surprise and recognition. Selene, who had been tending to something next to her, glanced up a moment later, and froze when she saw him.

Silas took the opportunity to take a step closer to the table and glanced at the seat next to Selene. There sat the girls, tucked under her arm, sound asleep and seemingly unharmed.

"Stefan?" Damon asked, bewildered. Silas laughed.

"Oh God no, you think your brother can track down a siren with two children in less than a day?" Ignoring Damon's shocked face, he turned to Selene.

"Silas." He held out his hand. "The better looking doppelgänger." Selene reluctantly shook his hand.

"I've been serving Cade for the last year." The first sentence caused a noticeable tension in her shoulders, and he knew she had realised that getting rid of him would not be easy, or worthwhile. "He told me a little bit about you, actually. So you can imagine my curiosity peaked when I learned that a nanny with your namesake had kidnapped two children with the same surname as an ex vampire-hunter, and whose mother is a vampire."

He stepped over to Damon and gestured to him to move up. He obliged, squashing the siren sitting next to him. Silas nodded at her in acknowledgement, but his main focus was Selene and Damon.

"So, Damon, tell me. What have I been missing?"

 **Thank you for reading. I am planning another chapter for this mini story, and updating Love Lost, which should be up sometime in upcoming weeks, but I have so much work, I can't say for sure. Anyway, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!**


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